Chapter 141 - Hundred And Forty One
The Rose Petal Tea Shop was one of the most fashionable establishments in the city, a place where noblewomen went to display their new hats, exchange the latest gossip, and be seen by the right people.
The air was a cloying mixture of strong tea, sweet pastries, and a dozen different expensive perfumes. The low hum of polite conversation and the delicate clinking of porcelain cups filled the crowded room.
Evelin Pembroke, sitting at a small table near the window, raised her hand, waving it back and forth so that Anne could see her through the sea of elaborate hats and fluttering fans.
Anne saw her hand and smiled, a cool, confident expression on her face as she navigated the crowded room and sat across from Evelin.
"Wow, Anne," Evelin said, her own face beaming with a nervous excitement. "You look like you are in a very good mood today."
Anne’s smile widened as she sat down, untying her hat and placing it on her laps. "I guess so," she replied, her tone suggesting a secret she was eager to learn more about.
"Then since you are in a good mood, after this, we simply must go shopping," Evelin said, her voice dropping to an excited whisper. "There is a new modiste, just down the street, called ’The Golden Needle’. They have the most exquisite dresses from the continent. I heard that Lady Amber Carson herself went there last week and procured a set of beautiful dresses." She paused, imagining the scene. " You should have seen them, Anne. They were so beautiful and people have been buzzing about it ever since." She leaned forward. "We can take your carriage. It will be faster and stress free."
But Anne was not interested in shopping just yet. She held up her hand, a simple, elegant gesture that immediately stopped Evelin’s enthusiastic chatter. "Show me first," Anne said, her voice quiet but firm.
Evelin, confused, asked, "Pardon?"
"You sent me a letter this morning," Anne replied, her eyes sharp and focused. "You said you had something important, something scandalous, on Delia. What is it?"
Evelin smiled, a shrewd, knowing expression that was far older than her years. "Wow, Anne. You are really very curious about this, aren’t you?" She reached into her reticule and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was not the final, printed pamphlet, but a handwritten draft, the words scribbled in a hasty, messy script. It was the story, ready for the printing press, based on the single most juicy piece of information in the entire kingdom. The same one she showed her brother nights ago when he threw her out of his room. She seemed to have added more to the story to make it juicier.